


Penumbra

by gearshaft



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Canon Blending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Just A Young Boy And His Robot Best Friend, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, no underage whatsoever, poc characters, robots have feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28284168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gearshaft/pseuds/gearshaft
Summary: What if Sam Witwicky had never purchased the Camaro? What if the fate of the world never rested on his shoulders? What if Michael Bay hadn't absolutely massacred the movies? What if it had been a whole lot gayer? Follow a 13-year old boy as he navigates growing up and saving the world.
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet, Megatron/Optimus Prime, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Rodimus | Rodimus Prime/Ultra Magnus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Charlie Foxtrot

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This fic started off as a joke with some friends that went along the lines of "I could have written the movies better." Then it became a writing challenge for myself. There will be some scenes similar to the movies, but many of the content is my own; especially in later chapters. In addition, I will be taking influences from other TF series for this fic. Any content that is taken directly from the film will be completely italicized. It goes without saying that I do not own the films. I hope you enjoy this fic! I dedicate it to all my friends that bullied me into this. You are loved.

_Before time began, there was the Cube._

_We know not where it comes from, only that it holds the power to create worlds and fill them with life._

_That is how our race was born._

_For a time, we lived in harmony. But like all great power, some wanted it for good, others for evil._

_And so began the war, a war that ravaged our planet until it was consumed by death, and The Cube was lost to the far reaches of space._

_We scattered across the galaxy, hoping to find it and rebuild our home; searching every star, every world._

_And just when all hope seemed lost, message of a new discovery drew us to an unknown planet called Earth._

_But we were already too late._

* * *

Somewhere in the skies of Qatar, two military helicopters are meandering their way back to headquarters. 

There are 8 men onboard of all different races, shapes, and sizes. One thing they all have in common is that they are enjoying a rare moment of peace. 

One man is sitting within earshot, but is listening to his Mp3 player. He has bonds with these men; there is no denying this. He enjoyed every single moment of their company and would put his life on the line for them. But sometimes he knew he had to withdraw within himself; lest he start turning his frustrations of being constantly on edge outwards and onto his brothers-in-arms. 

His volume was just low enough that he could hear the men talking over his metal music. 

His peer, Figueroa, was the first to break the silence. _“Oh, God, five months of this. I can't wait to get a little taste of home, a plate of mama's alligators étouffée.”_

He couldn’t help but agree with his senior, Epps, when he responded with, _“You've been talking about barbecued 'gators and crickets for the last two weeks. I'm never going to your mama's house, Fig. I promise.”_

It was no secret that their Hispanic friend was a huge fan of his mother’s cooking, but not a single one of them ever thought that the food sounded appetizing. 

The man couldn’t help but chuckle when the two got into an argument about the supposed succulence of gator meat. Personally, he didn’t care how nutritious it was; he wanted nothing to do with that. 

Fig, as they all affectionately referred to him as, did his much-expected schtick of rambling off in a flurry of Spanish. Just as expected, Epps cut-in to remind him for what felt like the hundredth time that no one there was fluent except him. In all honesty, it didn’t bother them, and Fig knew it. But it had become somewhat of an inside joke between all of them. 

So, it came as natural as breathing air when his superior, Lennox, chimed in with, _“I don't-I mean, how many times have we-we don't speak Spanish. I told you that.”_

Lennox was a man that everyone in the unit respected and trusted to hold their lives in his hands. The man had been in a previous unit, where there had been no camaraderie and his leader hadn’t been someone he felt really cared about his men. 

Lennox was further from this than the Earth was to the Sun. 

He didn’t command respect—he earned it. He treated every single one of his men with dignity and listened to anything they felt they had to interject. He shed blood, sweat, and tears with all of them, rather than just giving orders. He supposed some would say that was to be expected of a unit on the front lines, but he knew that not all men had the bravery that Lennox did. 

The 3 men continued their banter until the bespeckled man named Donnelly broke up the convo with a simple, “ _Hey, you guys remember weekends? Huh? The Sox at Fenway? Cold hotdog and a flat beer?”_

The men became wistful as for a moment they each were transported far from the godforsaken desert and safely in their homes; with their loved ones and without a care in the world. 

“Ansberry, you got a perfect day?” Donnelly questioned. 

“Huh?” the man replied as he snapped out of his own reverie. 

Epps laughed. “What is a good day in _your_ book?” 

“One where I’m living,” Ansberry said with a shrug. 

The men all chortled, but Fig said with a snort. “Amigo, you have to have some idea of what you want to return home to.” 

Ansberry thought deeply. “I want to return to what family I still have left; get my shit in order, make my own damn decisions, and play some video games. Normal, simple, shit that you take for granted every day. Although...I have a feeling _Ghost Recon: Wildlands_ is going to be out of the question now.” 

The men chuckled again. Ansberry was the youngest in the squad, and as such, his answer had differed from the rest of theirs. However, in some way, it showed not only his youthful optimism but a simplistic summary of something they hadn’t thought of; a return to normalcy. 

The attention thankfully shifted off of Ansberry and onto their Captain when he admitted with no surprise to anyone that he longed to be with his wife and small daughter. It wouldn’t be them, however, if they didn’t heckle him first for his sentimentality. 

After some time, the men had been dropped off at the US Soccent Airbase. Each man had taken off on their own for a little R&R. 

Ansberry himself was currently in his tent, sitting on his cot, and staring at a blank letter. He knew he wanted to write, but also knew he didn’t know what to say or if he even truly _wanted_ to say anything. 

Each mission he found himself promising that if he were to return in one piece, he would write that letter. And yet every single time, the words escaped him. 

Frankly, he couldn’t really find it in him to care. Some things were better left unsaid, and maybe this was one of them. In the end, he didn’t need this added hassle. He found himself putting the same paper he had pulled out hundreds of times before back into his backpack, along with the only pen he owned. He found himself unconsciously rubbing the pendant on the necklace that had somehow gotten tangled with his dog tags. 

He decided that now was a better time than any to take a nap; afterall, it’s not like he was going to be needed for awhile. 

He laid himself down on his cot; he made himself comfy, put in his headphones blaring heavy metal, and drifted off to sleep in moments. 

* * *

Ansberry was woken up from his deep-sleep by his cot shaking violently. Being a trained soldier, it didn’t take him long to shift from a groggy state, to full-attack mode. He was quick to grab his pack, his weapon, and his gear all in a matter of minutes. 

The entire time, he could hear screams, explosions, and large thumps. Once he was outside of his tent, he saw complete chaos. 

There was glass scattered everywhere, power lines were sizzling, and there was a fire any way you turned. People were screaming and running as if their very lives depended on it; which he supposed they probably did. He was quick to observe that everyone was hauling ass in the same direction—away from something. 

His first instinct was that the enemy had launched an attack on their base; in hindsight, he wished it had been human enemies. 

He began running as fast as his legs could carry him in the same direction as all the others. He was still confused and anxious, but his fight-or-flight instincts had already begun taking over. And he sure as hell wasn’t going down without a fight. 

In all of the commotion, he spotted Epps running a little ways ahead of him. He could just make out over the thundering noises, _“They bombed the antenna farm! We're under attack!”_

But who were _they_?! 

There came an electronic rumbling and metallic screeches. Then came more explosions. More gunshots. 

What in the hell was going on?!

The ground was shaking and flaming humvees were flipping as if being thrown great distances; presumably from the explosions. 

A large crash sounded, and he deduced it was more than likely from one of the base’s ceilings. 

Ansberry didn’t have any more time to contemplate—he had to survive. 

It took only moments for Ansberry to fall in-line with his team. He got into formation and watched their backs. Lennox had grabbed that kid from the nearby village he had befriended and was protecting him from the disarray all-around them. With guns drawn, they made their way through the battlefield. 

The only person they seemed to be missing was Epps. 

The team found cover behind a row of tanks. Thankfully, they spotted Epps from their hiding spot, weapons at the ready. Lennox was about to call out to his friend when suddenly a large thump signaled the sound of something hitting and then blocking Epps’ way. 

He fell to the ground from the great force, before another thing similar to the first landed right next to the man. He had rollen away from the object just in time to avoid being crushed by it. 

Their eyes followed the thing from ground-up and were completely astonished to see the hulking mass of a metal monster. It made all of their mouths drop and their pulses quicken. 

What the _fuck_ was that thing?!

What could only be described as an absolutely gigantic robot stood before them. 

It seemed unknowing of Epps’ presence until it noticed him taking a snapshot of it with his binoculars. It had been making deep-humming noises, along with metallic clicks, until that moment. Now, it drew its own huge weapon straight at Epps. 

Epps was quick to take-off on his feet and Fig fired a shot at the thing to cover him. The great leviathan became both distracted and angered at this, and quickly moved its attention back onto Epps, once the smoke had cleared from its face. 

Epps, however, had made it to their team, and they were quick to pull-out. In the cover of darkness, the group of them boarded a lone tank that had not been hit and made a hasty retreat. 

As they escaped with their lives, they couldn’t help but marvel in fear at the massacre that was occurring just feet away and at a place they had been calling home. Their entire airbase was seeming to be vaporized into thin air, and they could do nothing to stop it. Ansberry clutched onto the pendant he wore around his neck and once again thought of that empty letter in his backpack. 

* * *

“Mr. Robinson!” 

The young boy snapped out of the blissful daydreams he had been having. 

He looked up at the scowling face of Mrs. Graham, his 8th Grade English teacher. 

“Uh, yeah. Wassup?” he asked with obvious confusion. 

The entire class snickered, and he couldn’t help but curse that he had let his imagination get the best of him yet again. And to insult to injury, he was making an even bigger fool of himself than when he was in P.E. earlier that day. 

In his defense, he had _never_ had to run a mile before! Why was this a requirement? Was he going to have to train for the Olympics anytime soon?! 

“The question is _what is up_ ? Not _wassup_ . We speak proper English in our _English_ class, Mr. Robinson. And I’ve been calling on you to answer.” 

The boy paused. 

Uh-oh. What friggin’ question?!

The teacher sighed deeply. “The question was what do you believe the overall theme of _Call of the Wild_ is?” 

Arrow snorted inside of his head. He hardly needed to pay attention in class to know the answer to most of her questions. He was at _least_ two grades ahead in reading and writing comprehension and read most of these books at home, where he used to be homeschooled. 

“The theme is about transformation. At the beginning of the novel, Buck is civilized and has a societal set of morals. But to survive, he has to come to terms with who he must become due to the harsh realities of his world,” he recited easily. 

The teacher seemed satisfied with his answer and moved on with her lesson. 

The boy sighed in relief, now that the attention was no longer on him. 

He missed being homeschooled, he missed his friends, and he missed his old home. When he was being taught at home and online, he felt he was at his best academically. The lessons fit his comprehension skills and could be accelerated if needed. He felt like learning at a public school was more about age and grades than about his actual learning needs. 

Abruptly, a wadded up piece of paper hit his head and then landed innocently on his desk. 

How could he forget the worst part? Bullies. He certainly couldn’t forget about dealing with the childish pranks and mocking. 

In Alabama, there had been a lot of things that weren’t right. However, in California, he was miserable. 

The thirteen-year-old picked up the offending item and opened it. 

Inside, it had four simple words hastily scrawled onto it: **Arrow is a buttmunch!!!**

Ah, yes. A true classic. 

He rolled his eyes before wrinkling the paper back into its original form. 

The teacher interrupted his train-of-thought when she called out in a sing-song tone and picked up a clipboard from her desk. “Alright, class! As you all know, in honor of our last book, I asked you to pick a family member older than at least your grandparents to do your family genealogy report on! So we’re going to down the class roster and have everyone tell me who they are choosing and why you chose them!” 

She took a pause and scanned the room before her eyes landed on Arrow. 

“Mr. Robinson! We will start with you while we still have your attention!” 

The class snickered yet again and Arrow could feel a ripple of embarrassment go through him. 

“Um—I was going to do mine on my great-great-grandfather—” the boy started before a girl named Summer cut in. 

“You’re adopted! You’re not even related to whoever you choose!” 

Arrow frowned. He may not have been related to anyone but his brother by blood, but blood didn’t equate to family in his mind. He was more than proud of his family, even if he wasn’t happy with the move to California. 

The teacher was quick to scold the girl with, “Summer! We don’t say such inappropriate things like that in my classroom! For that little remark, you get detention tomorrow after school!” 

The girl groaned.

“Now, please continue Mr. Robinson.” 

“Anyways; despite differing opinions, _my great-great-grandfather—_ ” he paused to look over at the girl who had a stupefied look on her face. It left him with a more than satisfied feeling, and continued with “In 1897, he was one of the first people to explore the Arctic Circle.” 

“Very interesting! And what will be your show-and-tell item?” 

“The very glasses he was wearing on his famous expedition.” 

“I can’t wait to hear the rest!” his teacher said with great enthusiasm. “Alright the next one up will be Ms. Heathers—” 

The school bell went off signaling the end of the day. 

A switch seemed to be flipped in his classmates because suddenly the once lethargic students were bursting with energy. They were packing up their bags as if they were participants in a relay race. Meanwhile, the poor teacher tried in vain to speak over the loud raucous. 

“We’ll continue this tomorrow! And there _might_ be a pop quiz on the next chapter! So perhaps you should try reading it for once?” 

The students filed out of the room, paying no mind to the teacher’s warning, and talking loudly. Arrow was packing up his stuff when his teacher stopped him. 

“Mr. Robinson. May I have a word with you?” 

Arrow wasn’t dumb. Not to toot his own horn, but he was pretty sure he was the smartest person in his grade. So, he was able to conclude where this conversation was going to go. 

“You’ve officially been at this school for two months. How are you faring?” 

Arrow had always favored sarcasm when dealing with unpleasant situations, and this was no different. “Oh, it’s going real swell. I have no friends, two-times more homework, and people picking on me; either for my accent, my weight, or my interests. Pretty much anything their creative little minds can come up with. Obviously, they’re a real special bunch full of imagination and perseverance to get the job done. Good job American Education System!” 

The teacher laughed. “I know this all seems like a lot to deal with, but you will find that in time you will not only get used to it, but you might even enjoy it.” 

He seriously wouldn’t hold his breath on that one. 

However, he didn’t have it in him to be unkind to a woman that genuinely cared about her students, so he replied with, “Thank you so much for the words of wisdom. I promise to keep it in mind.” 

He tried to make a hasty retreat but was again stopped. 

“One more thing. I’ve noticed your grades are dropping at an alarming rate. I know you know this material, so I urge you to consider putting in more effort, or I will have to have a discussion with your parents.” 

Arrow sighed. Great. 

“Okay.” 

“Have a great rest of your day, and see you tomorrow,” she said with a smile. 

Arrow was just about done with today and ready to go home and relax. More than likely he would get online with his friends or perhaps build some of his new _Lego_ kits. 

He spotted his mother’s car at the front entrance of the school and was quick to hop in. “Hello, my wonderful son. And how was your day?” 

Arrow was surprised at seeing his mother had come to get him. Usually, his babysitter Sydnee would have been the one to get him from school. 

“Why are you here?” he interrogated. 

“Ouch. No hello for your mother? My baby boy doesn’t need me anymore!” his mother joked with an overdramatic flourish. 

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said with a laugh. 

His mother pulled out of the spot and was heading in a different direction than their house. “Where are we going?” 

“I finally talked your Mom into letting me get a car to tinker around with. I’m taking you to help me pick the perfect one out, Champ. Who knows, maybe someday it’ll be yours.” 

Arrow was quick to pull a face. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to be Cameron’s? He’s gonna be driving before me. And how in the crap did you talk Mom into letting you do that?” 

His mother smirked, “I can be _very_ persuasive.” 

“Ew!” he said with a cringe. “Innocent child in the car! I don’t wanna picture anything about my moms besides doing crosswords and making dinner!” 

His mother snorted. “Anyways, did anything good happen in school today?” 

Arrow shrugged. “Almost passed out in gym class running the mile.” 

His mother said with a wheezing laugh. “I used to use my epilepsy as an excuse to not have to do it.” 

“Pretty sure as a parent you’re _not_ supposed to be a bad influence.” 

“Anything else?”

“I decided to go with Great-Great-Grandpa Eldin.” 

“Oh, boy. Your class is gonna have a barrel-of-fun listening about your genius Grandpa who eventually went blind and nutso.” 

“He wasn’t nutso!” 

“He ended up in a _psych ward_ for drawing some weirdass symbols and talking about a ‘Giant Iceman’ or some shit,” his mother pointed out. 

“Bruh. He was a badass.” 

As they were driving by the _Porsche_ dealership, he spotted an absolute crapshow of a dealership right across from it that said: Bolivia’s. 

“Bruh. _Please_ tell me that’s not where we are going. I can’t believe you are going to subject your child to this environment!” 

“It builds character.” 

As his mother was too busy laughing at her own joke and Arrow was trying not to slam his head on the dash, they both missed the old, yellow _Camaro_ that followed them into the used car lot. 

This car was on a mission, and it wasn’t going to fail.   
  



	2. Show me the Carfax

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back with another chapter! I'm really having fun with this fic and I hope that people enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. I dedicate this chapter to my Beta, Maya, who I would never be able to get by without! Please let me know what you think! Enjoy!

His mother had parked in the visitor spaces of Bolivia’s Used Cars, and somehow everywhere Arrow looked, the place seemed to get worse and worse. 

First was the clown holding the sign; his makeup was running down his face at an alarming rate and his costume was a complete disaster. The clown was arguing with a man that was yelling from the entrance of the service station and the voice of a man in the mechanic’s garage. 

_“Manny!”_ the man he was sure was the stereotypical cheesy car salesman yelled. 

_“What?!”_ the man he assumed was Manny replied. 

_“Get your cousin out of that damn clown suit! He's having a heat stroke again! Scaring white folks_!” 

The clown answered indignantly, _“I'm hot! Makeup's melting! It hurts my eyes!”_

Second, there was a small pen labeled: “Bolivia's Petting Zoo.” Inside the tiny pen was a scruffy-looking ostrich. 

“Oh, you’re most definitely gonna find a quality car of the _highest_ caliber here. I feel it in my bones,” Arrow sarcastically muttered. 

“Arrow.” 

“You in the market for a piece of crap, or?” 

The clown came running past behind him as a random guy on the street was chasing him and hitting him with a newspaper as he honked his clown horn to call for help, which was being completely ignored. 

The fun was just beginning, when a man came out dressed in a breezy Hawaiian shirt, a khaki fedora, and khaki pants. 

“Madam and uh...sir. _Bobby Bolivia, like the country, except without the runs. How can I help you?”_ the man inquired with a large, predatory smile. 

He knew he was going to make a sale today, that was for sure. 

“I’m looking for a car to tinker around with and maybe, someday, a gift for my son here,” his mother explained proudly whilst jostling his shoulder. 

_“You come to see me?”_ the man said with fake sentimentality. _“That practically makes us family. Uncle Bobby B, baby. Uncle Bobby B.”_

“Not here by choice,” Arrow pointed out. 

_“Your first enchilada of freedom awaits underneath one of those hoods! Let me tell you something, son. A driver don't pick the car; the car'll pick the driver.”_

“I’m thirteen. I won’t be driving for at least another three or four years, so…maybe focus on the one with the wallet.” 

“Not the point. Anyways!” he said with a twitch of his smile. _“It's a mystical bond between man and machine!”_

He could be having a mystical bond with _Fortnite_ right now. 

During this conversation between the three, a dingy yellow _Camaro_ pulled into an empty spot right next to a just as dingy, yellow _Volkswagen Beetle._

_“Son, I'm a lot of things, but a liar's not one of them.”_ He turned and pointed to two-elderly women at a neighboring home. _“Especially not in front of my mammy.”_

Comedically, he called out to her and she proceeded to flip him off. _“Ooh, don't be like that. If I had a rock, I'd bust your head, bitch,”_ he mumbled to himself. 

They started looking around the lot, his mother and the man looking at various vehicles. Arrow looked around the lot with great disinterest. He wouldn’t be surprised if any of these cars randomly combusted. That would be pretty sick actually. 

He continued examining the cars as he walked away from the two adults. He had walked a few yards away when he spotted a yellow _Camaro_. 

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the _nicest_ looking car, but it had _potential._

It was an older-model yellow _Chevy Camaro,_ with black racing stripes. He peeked into the car. It had custom leather black-and-yellow seats, a steering wheel that had a weird symbol in the middle of it, and a disco ball hanging from the mirror. His absolute favorite touch was the bee-shaped air freshener that had long lost its scent and said: Bee-otch. 

“Hey mom, this one has some badass stripes!” he called out to her. 

The two adults stopped their conversation and headed towards him. Bolivia had a perplexed look on his face. _“What the heck is this? I don't know nothing about this car. Manny!”_

Another argument took place between the two men. 

As the two argued, he and his mother continued to check out the car. 

“Looks like you picked a winner!” his mom exclaimed. “Now to find out how much…”

The salesman’s attention was suddenly right back on the pair. _“Well, considering the semi-classic nature of the vehicle, with the slick wheels and the custom paint job--”_

“There hasn’t been a paint job on this car in at least 15 years and the thing is _clearly_ a piece of shit,” his mother spat out hotly. 

“ _Yeah, but it’s custom_. So given those circumstances...five grand,” Bolivia decided on. 

“Ha! No way! That thing would take just as much in repairs,” his mother argued. 

Throughout the argument happening in the background, Arrow had sat in the front seat and dreamed of a time he could hit the open road. 

He knew the car wasn’t perfect, but there was something truly special about it. For the first time since he had moved here, it seemed there was a brighter future on the horizon. 

Then his dreams went up in smoke when he heard his mother vehemently say no to the price. He supposed she had a point, but it didn’t make the sting any less painful. 

Bolivia leaned down to his level. _“Kid, come on, get out. Get out the car.”_

Arrow grumbled as he climbed out of the vehicle. “Pretty sure you told me the car would pick me or something cheesy like that.”

“Well, sometimes they pick a driver with a cheap-ass mother. Out the car,” Bolivia demanded before his charismatic smile was back in place. 

He started attempting to talk up an old, yellow _Volkswagen Beetle._ He had climbed into the car and sat in the driver’s seat as he continued talking. As soon as he closed the door, the _Camaro_ ’s own door swung open widely and smacked into the other vehicle causing the little bug to slide over and hit a rack of motor oil bottles. It hadn’t been too rough, but it was enough to jostle the African-American man from the driver’s side seat. 

“Are you okay?” his mom asked with concern. “How in the hell did that happen?”

 _“No, no, no. No worries. I'll get a sledgehammer and knock this right out. Hey, hey, Manny! Get your clown cousin and get some hammers and come bang this stuff out, baby!”_ the man replied with a laugh. 

The mother-and-son-duo shared a look. 

The man continued rattling on when out of nowhere, there was a high-frequency noise that caused the family members to cover their ears and Bolivia to hit the deck. It was a good thing he did, for simultaneously every single cars’ windows exploded in a shower of glass. Car alarms were going off in every direction, as all three of them looked around with their mouths agape. 

What just _happened?!_

Arrow couldn’t help but feel bad for the man, as he viewed the destruction of the man’s entire business. It appeared there was only one car left in the lot that was untouched by the carnage; the yellow _Camaro._

Bolivia turned to the pair with great desperation, _“Four thousand!”_

It wasn’t until after the paperwork was filled out and Bolivia had gone into the backroom, presumably to cry, that Arrow whipped his head to his mother. 

“Alright, and now that you bought the car _genius_ , how do you expect to get it home?” 

“Ok, so listen and don’t tell Mom. We live right around the corner--kind of. When I was a kid I used to drive two cities over with no license, and I made it just fine--” 

“No! Are you kidding me? That’s such bad parenting!” Arrow screamed. “Suck it up and call Mom!”

“I’m kidding! I already arranged for Uncle Anthony to come pick it up and drop it off at our house. Geez, when did you get so mature?” 

Arrow let out a sigh of relief. 

As they were leaving the lot, Arrow couldn’t help but glance backward in the rearview mirror. In it, he could see Bolivia running around and pointing wildly to and fro. Manny, the poor man, was looking lost and confused. The yellow _Camaro_ seemed to glisten in the late afternoon sunlight as if winking at him. 

* * *

“I’m going to smack you,” his Mom declared when she spotted the car her brother had just dropped off for her wife. 

“Wait, what did I do?!” her brother asked indignantly. 

His Uncle had lived in California and urged their family to join him when he heard of their struggles. He lived down the street with his wife and daughter and came over often to help out. In truth, his Uncle was sarcastic and hardly ever able to be serious, but he had a good heart and was willing to help out in any way he could. 

“How could you let her buy this hunk of junk?!” 

Her wife encircled her in her arms. “Aww, babe. It’s not that bad! And with a little TLC from me and the boys, we will have her in perfect condition in no time!” 

Arrow shrugged his shoulders. “Couldn’t get any worse. So, might as well try.” 

His Mom thought for a moment, before sighing deeply. “Fine, fine. You know how hard it is to say no to both of you.” 

He and his mother high-fived. 

His mother started peppering his mom with kisses. “This is why I proposed to you. My baby, my love, my angel!” 

His mom bashfully giggled. 

Arrow couldn’t help but smile at the tender moment. He knew this would make the move worth it. In Alabama, his moms were constantly harassed for their marriage and their parenting. No one should have to go through that. His parents seemed genuinely happy here. Maybe he could give this place a try. 

His Mother, Lauran, was the elder one by only a year. She cared deeply for her family and felt she had to spoil all of them. She made it a point to take care of all of them, as the spine of the family. Moreover, her Dad jokes were infamous and she could scare pretty much anyone with a single look. In addition, she was quick to anger at others when someone she cared for was in distress. 

His Mom, Vallory, was the shorter of the two. She cried at basically every little thing, but she was patient and selfless. She was prone to blurting out the truth but immediately felt bad about it. In addition, she felt insecure that she wasn’t able to pick up on social cues easily, and got frustrated at herself more often than not when she got upset over things that other people did not view as a problem. 

He loved both of his parents dearly. 

“Eww! Keep that to yourself!” a voice called from the doorway.

Leave it to his older brother to ruin the tender moment. 

His older brother could be a real dick sometimes. It didn’t help that he rarely held empathy for most people. In Arrow’s opinion, he could be blunt and childish. Nevertheless, he did have his good moments. Sometimes. 

“Cameron! When did you get back?” his Mom inquired. 

“Like 5 minutes ago and walked into this Puke-fest.” 

“Maybe we should have left him in Alabama....” Arrow whispered to his Uncle. 

It was the usual exchange between family, and he was secretly thankful for the distraction from his monotonous and draining school day. 

He knew it sounded crazy but he could swear that as they all went inside for dinner, he felt as if the car was watching intently. 

He almost laughed at himself; as if cars could watch people! What a silly notion. 

* * *

The woman yawned. She knew she had needed to get sleep last night but had stayed up most of the night through no fault of her own. 

It had been one hell of a night between her workload, anxiety attack, and a million projects she had to finish. 

The woman could already feel that the day was going to be a long one when she had to argue with the security guard to even let her into the Pentagon’s structure. 

“What do you mean, I have to show more identification?! You just let all _four_ of my friends into the building with no problem!” she recalled herself saying with great irritation. 

“It's our procedure,” the older man said simply. 

“That doesn’t make sense! I have my identification and my paperwork _telling_ me to report here! What more do you want?” 

“We are allowed to make random screenings.” 

The girl squinted her eyes. “And I’m a threat?” 

“No. It’s random.” He shrugged. “We pick at random when we believe someone is out of place.” 

“And I'm ‘out of place’ because?” 

The guard didn’t respond. 

Of course. The classic _diet racism_ was at play here. She wasn’t stupid and she knew what this translated to. _What would a black woman be doing as an analyst for the Pentagon?_

As she was walking away she had a full conversation in her head. 

**_Let’s go, baby! Smack the shit outta his crusty ass._ **

She had finally made it into the building and spotted her friends. 

A bigger male with glasses gave her a wince. “He wasn’t even trying to hide it.” 

An Asian male gave her a sympathetic look but remained silent. 

The last man, a scrawny white guy with shaggy hair, patted her on the back. “I’ve seen Rent-a-cops scarier than that dude.” 

A woman with a thick Australian accent nodded her head in agreement. “A real drongo.” 

Once the crisis was averted, everyone was ordered to file into a room. There were military personnel, men and women dressed in formal wear, and their out-of-place little ragtag group. 

Everyone seemed to be talking amongst themselves. It was obvious that they weren’t the only ones who were confused by their presence there. 

It seemed whatever this was, it was serious. 

Maggie was playing with her nails; her tell-tale nervous tick. 

Maggie turned to her friend. “You nervous too, Venus?”

“Oh, for sure.” Venus chuckled. “If I didn't have such tremendous anxiety right now, my ass would be out that door. The man guarding the door wouldn’t even be able to stop me because I’d be tackling his ass out my way." 

Their bespeckled friend snapped them from their conversation with a nervous _“Guys... that's the Secretary of Defense.”_

Wait. Why would he be here? Something serious must have happened and Venus had a gut feeling it wasn’t good. Looking back on it later she would realize she needed to start listening to it. 

Even though every single person in the room knew exactly who he was, a man introduced them to John Keller: the Secretary of Defense. 

Everyone began to rise out of respect. 

The man may not have looked dangerous, but he had an air of authority around him. It was clear he knew how to command a room and how to get any job done with little to no fear. A military man through and through it seemed. 

Keller began explaining the situation with a no-nonsense kind of voice and without pausing for a single breath. He explained how the night before the _SOCCENT Forward Operations Base in Qatar_ was attacked and it looked like there were no survivors. Before anyone could even begin to question the motive behind it, he announced with complete certainty that the goal was to hack the military network and they were unsure of what they were looking for. However, it seemed they were not successful. 

**_They’re gonna try it again. No way were they gonna give up just like that._ **

_“Now, no one's taken responsibility for the attack. And the only real lead we have, so far, is this sound,”_ the secretary said grimly whilst pointing at a large screen behind him. 

An ungodly mechanical screech played over the speakers as they watched the audio wavelength dance on the screen. 

Everyone looked at each other with confusion on their faces. What on Earth could possibly make that sound? Certainly not anything human or animal they could recognize. 

**_The fuck?! Nope! Nope! Nope! That shit is not right and I’m outta here as soon as my ass can be!_ **

_“That's the signal that hacked our network. NSA's working at full capacity to analyze it and intercept further communications but we need your help to find out who did this. Now, you've all shown considerable ability in the area of signals analysis.”_

The Secretary of Defense looked out into the crowd and landed on the group of young people. Venus felt as if those wide eyes were staring right at her. It made her feel nervous beyond belief...but it also made her feel empowered. Admittedly, she had wanted to hightail it the hell out of there, but she wasn’t going to give this up because she wanted to prove to herself she could do this and in the process make everyone else look like _clowns._ She _was_ a Scorpio dammit! 

**_Fuck all these old, white bureaucrats._ **

The world was in danger of WWIII and she was going to do everything in her power to stop it. The world may be fucked up but she still kind of lived there. Unfortunately. 

_“This is as real as it's ever gonna get. Now I'm gonna leave you to your officer-in-charge. You'll break up into teams and you'll start your work. Good luck...to us all.”_

She was definitely going to need it if she was going to crack this case.   
  
  
  
  
  



	3. *Hacker Voice* I'm in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm here again with another chapter of my self-indulgent fic! This one took me a little while but I hope people enjoy it! I'm having a ton of fun writing this. Thank you to all my friends who keep pushing me to continue! This is dedicated to everyone in the "Mega Gay Zone" group chat! I love you all <3

Only forty-five minutes left. In forty-five minutes he was free from this hell-hole for the weekend and he could do whatever the hell he felt like doing. 

School was rather uneventful today other than getting into an argument with Summer _again._

“You were homeschooled in Alabama! You wouldn’t even know this material!”

“I wasn’t homeschooled all my life, _Summer_. I went to a public school _just_ like this one too, so I know what I’m talking about.” 

“Well, _I’m_ on the _Honor Roll_ so I know what I’m talking about, _dweeb_!” 

Why did this girl always feel the need to have it out with him? He hadn’t done anything to her and didn’t know her from atom but as soon as he got into the school she had decided he was her prey. Problem was, she was as creative as her name. 

“Bruh! I was taking courses _two_ years ahead of you. So maybe you should listen to me so we can get an A on this lab.” 

Since today was Friday, they were following the “B Schedule.” This meant that Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays the classes were different than Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

They were currently in their physical science class, working on an experiment where they were randomly split into teams to look at different types of rocks and name them based on the lesson. The winning team would earn extra credit put towards their next test score. 

The odds were stacked against him since the other two members of the team were a girl Summer was friends with and the other was a girl that clearly sought her approval. Like a cheesy movie, they, of course, went along with Summer and were inevitably wrong. 

Arrow wanted to gloat but knew it wasn’t even worth the brain cells. His parents had always said to save his rebuttals for people that really needed a verbal ass-beating. 

The boy let out a huge sigh of relief when the bell went off like the holiest of symphonies. 

He was quick to pack his stuff and get the hell-out-of-dodge. 

At the front of the school, he saw his babysitter’s truck. She was currently borrowing her Grandfather’s small pickup truck since she didn’t have a car of her own. He was quick to climb into the passenger seat and buckle himself up.

“And how was today’s amazing day of education?” his babysitter joked. 

“It sucked and I hate it here. Get me out of this prison,” Arrow deadpanned. 

Sydnee laughed but pulled out of the space nonetheless. “Where do you want me to drive you through?” 

“For food?” 

“Yes, my fatass is hungry as hell.”

“Firstly, big is beautiful—” Arrow recited. “ _You’re_ the one who taught me that. Remember?” 

The girl murmured in assent. 

“Secondly, _Taco Casa_ is the food of the Gods.” 

“Alright, good choice.” 

Sydnee had _Slipknot_ playing in the background as they drove along the streets without haste. Sydnee always seemed to know when he didn’t want to talk and when he needed it. She had always had a knack for reading someone’s mood. 

It was kind of sad to say, but the girl ten years older than him was his only real friend in this place. They had bonded pretty quickly when she had been hired by his parents to be his babysitter indefinitely. She quickly became like one of the family. 

It was easy to see why. She was easy to talk to, funny, and extremely mild-mannered. She played video games with him, helped him build his precious _Lego_ sets, and put Cameron in his place when needed it.

Once they had picked up food, Arrow was more than ready to head home and play some _Red Dead Redemption II._

“Where’s my brother?” he belatedly realized. 

“He went over to a friend’s. It’ll be just me and you kiddo. So what’s on the agenda for the day?” 

“I got a new _Lego_ set and I gotta tell you, it’s gonna be pretty fucking sick.” 

Sydnee laughed. “I’m down for a little _Lego_ action and maybe some music.” 

They headed towards the garage, where his mother had set up a little workstation for him and Cameron to work on their _Legos._

Sydnee had been following behind him when she stopped dead in her tracks. “The fuck is that?” 

Arrow had admittedly forgotten about the car. “My Mother bought it so she could have a hobby or something. I’m feeling like it’s a midlife crisis. But I’m no shrink.” 

The girl got closer to examine it. “This car is badass.” 

“Pardon me. But I believe the correct phrase is _Total Pile of Crap_.” 

“No! Seriously! Old cars are super cool. I bet this baby is fun to just drive around and chill.” 

“Bruh. It’s an old pile of shit and I’d be surprised if it even makes it past the driveway. My Uncle had to jumpstart it three times on the way home and the key wouldn’t turn.” 

The female waved him off. “Let’s go for a joyride!” 

“Um, are you insane? My Mom would _kill_ us and then kill my _Mother_.” 

“We’ll be back in no time! We just have to find the keys.” 

“I’m glad you’re so optimistic about this idea because frankly I think it’s a terrible one and I don’t understand how someone at twenty-three doesn’t feel the same way.” 

“I’m young at heart. Now help me find the keys!” 

They both started looking around in the garage, knowing it was the most likely place his Mother would have put them. 

“I think I found them—” her words were halted when she tripped and fell and slammed her head into the door. She was known for being accident-prone and it seemed to have struck again. She sarcastically droned, “Oh, we _love_ that for me.” 

“Are you okay?!” Arrow was quick to ask. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just annoyed.” 

“Well, at least you found the keys?” 

Sydnee headed to the car door’s lock and put the key into it. Nothing happened. She tried and tried to turn it but it seemed unmovable. It was almost funny how much effort the girl was putting into this, and yet still it would not yield. 

“You gonna open it?” 

“I’m trying!” 

“Tried to tell you this thing was headed for the scrap yard.” 

“With just a little—whoa!” All of a sudden, the door unlocked harder than Sydnee had anticipated and then dragged her arm with it.

Once the car was open, the babysitter was quick to practically throw herself into the driver’s seat and then patted the passenger’s seat expectantly. 

Arrow sighed but walked around to the other side of the car and let himself in. 

Once he was buckled up, Sydnee put the key in the ignition and turned it on. At first, it seemed to groan in protest and sputter angrily but after some begging, the engine powered up smoothly and roared to life. The only thing that seemed to give its age away was the cloud of smog it kicked up from its tailpipe. 

“This thing is a danger to the Ozone,” the young boy said under his breath. 

The babysitter used the clicker to open the garage and backed out of it with ease. 

They cruised off towards an unknown destination. Arrow would never admit to it, but his grin was just as big as his friend’s. 

* * *

_“At this time, we can't confirm whether there were any survivors. Our bases worldwide are, as of now, at DEFCON Delta, our highest readiness level. We're dealing with a very effective weapons system that we have not come across before. But our prayers are with the families of the brave men and women—”_

“That’s enough of that,” Sydnee said as she turned the radio’s dial to a different station that was playing old school rock-n’ roll.

“Hey! I was listening to that!” Arrow complained with disapproval. 

“Why do you want to listen to such depressing news? The world sucks enough as it is without listening to some old guy tell us how bad it is.” 

“ _That guy_ happens to be the _Secretary of Defense_. Sorry if I like to be worldly and know what’s going on.” 

“Okay, fair enough. But honestly, sometimes I feel like I’m better off not knowing.” 

There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes as they enjoyed the drive. 

The radio station that she had changed it to began to play an old school heavy metal song. Sydnee started jamming to it when the radio instantly changed to a different station on its own. 

“What the…” 

She attempted to turn it back and it played for all of a few seconds before it changed again. 

“Ha! Guess the car doesn’t agree with your choice of music,” Arrow joked. 

They were currently heading down a winding path in the hills. There were lush trees, shrubs, and foliage all around them and as they drove further down the road, a large public lake became visible. There were many people gathered there, more than likely starting their weekend off with a bang. Some were lounging on towels and soaking up the sun, some were playing games, and others were just hanging with their friends. Despite it only being April, there were even some people in the water. 

“Please do _NOT_ stop here,” the young boy pleaded. 

“Why what’s wrong with it?” 

“Bruh! I hate this lake! It always smells like fish and wild teens run loose there like a goddamn safari!” Arrow expressed passionately. 

“Don’t worry, I had another destination in mind,” she promised. 

They continued on past the lake, much to Arrow’s relief. 

Across the way from the park, was an area surrounded by a white fence that seemed to go on for miles, and to this day he still didn’t know what was even behind it. 

**_Area 51. Clearly._ **

The road they were on now continued on through the hills and looped around back towards the town. It was a pretty nice drive and the higher up they got, the smaller the town seemed to get. The trees were endless and the only sound was the dull thrum of the music, the car, and the wind whipping around them. It was nice. 

They came upon golden hills that overlooked the city and had a lone tree at the edge of it. Upon closer inspection, he saw an old-fashioned water pump and presumably an electrical box. Up here, most of the greenery was dead and dried up. Sydnee made a sharp turn and started going down a rough and unpaved path towards this tree. The bushes and weeds seemed to dance with the breeze and the wind whistled through the canyon. 

“Tell me before you do something like that!” he cried out whilst grabbing the seat in a deathgrip. 

They suddenly came to a stop. 

“Look at this view! This is one of my favorite places to come and just breathe for a few. I like to write lyrics up here, so I thought maybe I could bring you here and let you experience this since you seem to have had a bad day.” 

Arrow couldn't help but feel touched. 

The radio yet again changed channels on its own and through the speakers, they could hear Bill Withers’ soulful voice sing out, _“And I'll be your friend. I'll help you carry on. For it won't be long--”_

“Good song. I don’t know how it keeps doing that though,” Sydnee pondered. 

Arrow leaned over and smacked the radio which caused it to go back to its original station. 

“Like I said. Hunk-of-junk.” Arrow snorted. “But...thanks for taking me here. This was nice.”

“No problem, Small Child. Should we head back?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a small amount of disappointment. “Maybe we could come here again sometime?” 

The babysitter nodded. “Anytime you want.” 

As they headed back towards his home, the boy wondered if there was a way they could fix that wonky radio. 

He knew that he wasn’t overjoyed by the idea at first, but now he felt that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad of a project to work on with his mother. At least now he could admit the car had more to it than he had first expected. He wondered what else this car had in store for him. 

The mountains seemed to enclose around them as they got lost in the tranquility that embraced them. He supposed maybe this place did have its good points here and there. 

Though they still could have left Cameron in Alabama. No one would have complained, he was sure. 

* * *

_“Hey, guys, I think the other team figured it out. Iran,”_ her glasses-wearing friend said in a whisper. He looked around to make sure no one was listening in an almost conspiratorial way. The entire group stationed at the desk disregarded it with a shake of their heads. 

_“Come on, man. This is way too smart for Iranian scientists, eh? Think about it,”_ the scrawny male disagreed. 

_“What do you think, kid? Chinese?”_ the Asian male offered as a suggestion. 

_“No way. This is nothing like what the Chinese are using,”_ Maggie said with finality. 

Venus had her own opinions, but she was still grappling with them. After all, how could she say out loud that there wasn’t anything on Earth this complex and then turn around and say she also didn’t know what it could possibly be? 

Saying that it couldn’t be something on Earth would then lead to the argument: well then where was it from? 

The entire _National Military Command Center_ was abuzz with commotion. Everyone from senior officers to interns were running to and fro trying to figure out what the hell they were up against. The noise came from every corner of the room as people discussed it loudly and openly. Every single person in the room was focused on finding the person or persons responsible. 

Venus and her friends were set up towards the back of the room at a standard-issue desk. There were three monitors in front of them with the most sophisticated technology she had ever gotten her hands on and many programs running at the same time. There was little light shining through the room causing an almost constant feeling of doom. 

She had to think. There had to be something at work here that made sense and didn’t scare the shit out of her when she thought too hard about it. She had listened to the mysterious electronic sound they had recorded so often she thought it would haunt her in her sleep...or what little sleep she ever got. 

She had earphones on and was clicking away on the computer. She was currently accessing the military’s network via satellites, which had a direct link to _Air Force One_. As the satellites moved into place, they picked up a strange sound; it almost sounded like electronic chirping or metallic screeches. She turned to Maggie, who also had earphones on that could hear the same things she could, and the two exchanged a look. Call it women’s intuition, but they both seemed to understand something was wrong at the exact same time. 

She pressed the earphones closer to her head, hoping to hear it more clearly. She pulled up software to compare the unknown sound sample from Qatar and the one onboard _Air Force One._ It began running. In the background, it was searching for signals. 

_“Are you getting this? I think they're hacking the network again...”_ she said incredulously to the scrawny male right next to her. 

The computer started beeping as a small red warning flashed: _Foreign Signal Detected._

 _“Uh-oh…”_ her scrawny peer said just as incredulously. 

The diagnostic software they had pulled up showed the tones were identical. 

_“Oh, my God. This is a direct match to the signal in Qatar—”_ the Australian woman said before addressing her partner. _“Are you running a diagnostic?”_

He looked at her in confusion. “ _Should I be?”_

 _“Yes, you should,”_ she replied with urgency. 

“ _So I am…”_ he said nervously. 

Venus had remained silent during this entire exchange, almost too surprised to kick into gear, before suddenly her fingers were flying across the keyboard. “Already on it.” 

As she was doing this, she noticed Maggie typing frantically beside her. She knew that whatever was happening right now, it was going to be catastrophic to the military’s network if they couldn’t stop it. 

She got a notification: _Initiating File Upload._

At the exact same time, another notification popped up. _Uploading: “Unidentified File.”_

How was this possible? How could someone be stealing information and planting something at the exact same time? Even if this was a job done by multiple people, they would never be able to sync up this quickly and precisely. 

The last thing that appeared on her screen was: _P.O.T.U.S. Mainframe System Alert: Virus Detected._

It clearly stated that the virus was unknown and the threat level was unspecified. 

She knew she was powerless to stop it and she turned to Maggie with great fear. “They’re using _Air Force One’s_ security mainframe! We have to stop this now before it’s too late!”

Maggie shot up in her seat without a pause. _“Someone!”_

Everyone seemed to turn their heads at the urgency in her words. Some of the uniformed officers started rushing over towards her and she continued with _“They're hacking into Air Force One! We need a senior analyst! They're planting a virus!”_

They were suddenly bum-rushed by a group of officers and seniors. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Venus might have made a joke about that many old, white men coming at her. 

Venus and her male compatriots were pushed away and replaced by their seniors. 

She was trying with all her might to contain her anxiety. Everything was happening so fast and she wasn’t even sure what _it_ was. 

Wait, what were they even trying to get? Were they currently getting what they came for? They had to be stopped! Why wasn’t anyone trying to stop it?!

“We have to stop them before—” she tried. 

She was drowned out by the racket as Maggie was explaining to another analyst _“It's streaming right now. They are planting a virus and stealing a whole lot of data from your system at the same time.”_ She was typing on the keyboard and glancing at the screen in bewilderment. 

Duh! So, why wasn’t anyone handling the problem instead of waiting around for it to get worse?! 

Venus turned back to her monitor and saw the files were disappearing at a rapid pace. 

The man next to her, who was wearing a headset, warned the pilots on board the plane “ _Code Red. We have a breach. Air Force One, someone onboard has breached the military network.”_

“Maggie, they haven’t stopped! They’re gonna take everything!” Venus shouted. 

Maggie nodded at the girl and then returned back to her own computer. One glance at it was all she needed to say with confidence, _“You got to cut the hard lines.”_

The man with the headset sounded flabbergasted at the very idea. 

“You don’t have time to decide! You have to do it before they get some really dangerous crap! _Whatever they want, they are getting it!_ ” Venus added. 

The man turned to his boss. _“Sir? Permission to take down the Defense Network?”_

Everyone turned to this man with their eyes glued to him in fear. He held the fate of the nation’s defense network in his hands. For a man that had undergone training under enormous pressure, he looked like he might faint. He paused for a second before finally getting out, _“Cut all server hard lines now.”_

The man on the headset was quick to relay the message and _Air Force One’s_ techs were just as quick to spring into action. 

Venus turned to her screen and was relieved to see a true Godsend: _Connection Terminated._

Finally, everyone in the room seemed to collectively let out the breath they were holding. 

It was by no means a victory, but it was at least a start. 

The man with the headset seemed to announce to the whole room at that moment _“Air Force One is on the ground.”_

* * *

The plane was surrounded by cars with flashing lights and human flesh bags in various uniforms. They were armed with crude weapons. 

The small silver robot slinked from the plane and hid behind its large wheels. It peered around for an escape and spotted its comrade. It decided to make a run for it since the stupid organics were too busy amongst themselves. It slowed its gait and attempted to hide its face with a robotic hand, knowing it wouldn’t do much good if it was spotted, but at least made it feel more hidden. 

It was behind two humans turned backs and continued on after a quick glimpse to see if they had any clue it was there. They did not. Morons. This entire race was about as intelligent as rodents. 

It opened the door to a police car whose sirens seemed to go off in an almost menacing way. It was a _Ford Saleen Mustang S281 Extreme_ and had a strange symbol on its side. The small robot was quick to scramble inside. 

There was one lone officer inside the vehicle that seemed almost lifeless, other than the obvious movements he made when he turned to his passenger. 

The small robot was twitching animatedly and almost gesturing angrily. 

_“Stupid insects tried to shoot me...found a clue to the All Spark,”_ it chittered. It began banging on the keyboard of the onboard computer. _“The Robinson man—he has seen our language.”_

It began searching the internet faster than any human could possibly ever do, and was using multiple browsers at the same exact time. “Robinson search—” 

A second later, a school identification card was pulled up, with the face of a young boy. He seemed to be unhappy to be taking the picture and was wearing the plainest outfit he could have come up with; almost as a sign of rebellion. 

“We must find Arrow-child.” In less than one second a map of the child’s town was on the screen of the sleek and foreboding police car. It peeled out of the area with none-the-wiser and sped towards the small town where the fleshling lived. 

If the child did not give them what they wanted—well humans lived short lives anyway. 

The robot cackled to itself as the police car accelerated towards their destination. 

The stars were their only witnesses as they disappeared into the darkness. 

**Author's Note:**

> Stop by my [tumblr](http://gearshaft.tumblr.com) if you wanna talk about some robots with feelings! See you in the next chapter! :)


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